The Night Before
by Ellislash
Summary: You don't have to be drunk to tell the truth. NxE, songfic for Imogen Heap-"The Walk," some coarse language. I don't own Imogen Heap, Yngwie Malmsteen, or anything Valve does.


"Right turn in nine-point-two miles. Route Seventeen."

"Could you _possibly_ live _any_ farther from civilization?" Nick grumbled over radio noise and the calm voice of the GPS.

"Wouldja rather I walk it? I c'n git out an' walk, no problem…"

"Don't make me turn on the child lock," the driver threatened, seeing Ellis fumble at the passenger-side door. "Jesus, you're shitfaced. How the hell much did you drink?"

"Dunno. Why?"

"Do I have to make sure you don't choke on your own puke later?"

"Naw, this ain't _near_ as bad as th' time Dave bet me'n'Kieth that neither of us could drink two fifths a' bourbon all at once... Hooo-eee, I _still_ can't look at a bottle a' Ol' Crow. Good times…"

"Do you even _remember_ what happened?"

"Hells yeah. Went swimmin' in a hurricane." Ellis gave Nick a boozy smile. "An' Dave owed us both fifty bucks."

"I can't believe you had the sense to call me," the designated driver muttered. He was concentrating on not hitting any deer, and didn't see the grin. Given the density of the trees that his brights showed him, it was a wonder there weren't more warnings posted. The two of them fell silent, letting the radio chatter to itself.

_…Call now, __that__'__s __one-eight-hundred, __five-three-two__…_

"Hey, can we pull over a sec?"

"Shit. Don't you _dare_ get sick on the leather!" Nick swerved to the shoulder and stopped a little too fast for comfort, but he'd rather ruin the brakes than the interior. Ellis found the handle this time.

"Don't you worry none, gorgeous, I'd never mess you up," he said in a stage whisper, petting the dash before staggering to the tree line. Nick rolled his eyes, wishing that the idiot didn't also talk to cars when he was sober.

He turned off the engine but kept the power on, and set the e-brake so he could relax. Some low-intensity, late-night music was playing now. No vocals, but excellent guitar. The digital display said "Yngwie Malmsteen." Never heard of them.

After a minute Nick's conscience got fussy. This was a new development, and one he wasn't too thrilled with, but it was telling him that he really ought to go make sure Ellis didn't pull a Hendrix. Annoyed, the conman left his keys in the ignition and grudgingly got out of the 'Benz.

No traffic in either direction. There hadn't been any for a long while. Only the muffled music from the car could be heard - no retching or groaning came from the woods. Nick frowned and walked quickly to the spot were Ellis had disappeared, already picturing the worst, calculating the time it would take for an ambulance to reach them - far, far too long. High-strung heart racing, he neared the trees with growing agitation, and prayed he wasn't too late.

"Where're ya goin'?" The question scared Nick out of his skin, but he tried not to let on. Fright and relief both vanished behind a perfect poker face as his charge emerged from the woods, totally fine.

"If you'd died of alcohol poisoning I was gonna take your wallet," he said dismissively, turning back to the car. Ellis fell in next to him, wobbling slightly.

"I tolja, this ain't nothin'. Jus' had ta piss. Ain't gonna puke, I promise."

"You better not," Nick growled quietly to keep up appearances. His instincts were screaming, and he was growing suspicious. If Ellis _wasn__'__t_ totally hammered, why had he called for a ride at fuck-o'clock in the morning when his truck had been right there…

"Um. That's the back seat, killer."

"Uh-huh."

"Half an hour ago you were over the moon because you '_got__ta__ be__ co-pilot_.'"

"Yep."

"Do I want to know why you changed your mind?"

"No. Well, maybe. Actually, yes."

"So, are you gonna tell me?"

"You gotta get in first. No, not in front, back here."

"Fine," Nick sighed, and opened the rear driver's side door. The radio wasn't playing guitar anymore; now a breathy woman was singing quietly. He knew that if he didn't play along, the rest of the ride would be unbearable; so he slid onto the bench and pulled the door shut, half-listening to the music.

…_you__ and __I __were __never __meant __to __meet__…_

"All right, here I am. What's the deal?"

Ellis' silly, drunk expression disappeared instantly. In its place was an extremely serious one; serious, and embarrassed. Suddenly Nick realized that his passenger barely smelled like alcohol at all, and therefore couldn't possibly be wasted. A cold part of his brain started screaming red alert - he'd been had. But what was the dupe?

"How long's it been? Since the zombies an' evacs an' stuff?"

"Not long enough."

"Yeah, sure, but... s'been feelin' like forever. For me, anyhow."

_…__no __mistakes, __no __misbehaving__…_

Nick couldn't see where this was going, and he didn't like it.

"What's your point?"

"My point?" Ellis shifted uncomfortably, then scootched forward until the two of them were only a few inches apart. "I, uh… I guess it's kinda awkward, now I'm thinkin' 'bout it… What the hell. I gotcha all the way out here… Nick, I… I've been in love with you. Since Mississippi, remember? That time ya saved me from the hunter…?"

Nick just stared mutely at him, stunned. Not even the cold, calculating part of his mind had anything to say, and his heart was suddenly pounding so hard it hurt.

_...close __as __it __gets __without __touching__ me - oh, __now__ don__'__t __make__ it __harder__ than __it __already__ is__…_

Ellis looked back at him for ages, blue eyes hopeful and frightened. It was impossible to see that face and be angry. It was impossible to be anything other than completely under his spell. It was impossible to resist the urge - the _need_ to reach out, and make sure he was okay.

_…__point__ of __no __return, __one __second __to__ go__…_

So Nick reached out, and put a hand on Ellis' shoulder. His nerves buzzed at the contact. He opened his mouth to speak, even though he didn't know what to say; but it didn't matter, because he'd been right.

Ellis didn't _taste_ like alcohol, either.


End file.
